Remember the Day
by Calmer of the Storm
Summary: AU. Katniss and Peeta were killed in the 74th Hunger Games. Gale, angry and hurt, cannot wait until his chance to exact his revenge. However things don't quite go as planned as a particular girl gets thrust into the mix, the 75th Hunger Games, with him. Soon it becomes clear that things are not always as they seem, and maybe this is bigger than he ever thought it could be.
1. Chapter I

So, this is an experiment written by me and my friend. If you like it, there's plenty more to come. If not, well, it was worth a shot. Hahaha. Let us know what you think!

Remember the Day

_Madge_

The morning of the reaping dawned the same way it always did. For four years I had experienced it. Soon to be five. Even if I've never needed tesserae, I still feel the cold, tense prickles at the back of my neck on reaping days. Even I'm not safe from being thrown into the games... and even if I was, I'd probably still feel the same. Losing friends and relatives is almost as bad as losing yourself, isn't it?

Last year was the hardest. The games were only a few days in when we watched Peeta die. Burned to death in the fire that chased Katniss from her hideout. He had been looking for her, I remember it as clear as day. He must have really loved her.  
Only a few days after that, Katniss was caught by the tributes from District 1. The cannon sounded for her, too, just a few minutes after they caught her. She was wearing my pin when she died.  
It seemed like all of District 12 was in mourning after they passed. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen were barely seen around town for a few months after the games. Whenever I did get a glimpse of Prim, she looked swallow and paler than usual, heading toward the dangerous side of emaciated.  
I used to sneak by whenever Gale wasn't around and drop off a few tokens. A ball of yarn. A few vials of morphling that I'd dug out of my mother's medicine case. Maybe even a loaf of bread here and there. It didn't seem to be enough. Even with Gale's constant struggle, food had become scarce for them.

My father doesn't talk about the games much. I think it's because of Aunt Maysilee. I get chills every time I think of her. Of course, I wasn't even born then, but my mother keeps a photograph of the two of them hidden away in her chest of drawers. When I was a child, I used to sneak into her room to look at it, wondering who the double copy of my mother was. Once, my father told me it was her sister, and then dropped the conversation there.

By the time I'm ready to get out of bed, I can already hear the quiet settling over the town. Usually, I can hear at least some commotion going on, but today, like all reapings, the shutters are drawn closed and families are trying to get just one last moment with each other before things head south. It's a reality for two families, but the others will breathe easier after the reaping is over.  
I make my way to the bathroom and draw a bath. Our tub is communal, though it's still much nicer than what most people in District 12 can afford. I think it may be porcelain. It's missing one clawed foot, but has been propped up on a stack of old books, which makes it slightly wobbly though still usable. Things like this aren't often wasted.  
The water that comes out is tepid at best, but I slip in and scrub my body down, trying my best to ignore the scratching of the brush against my skin. I wash my hair - something I barely get to do once a week now - and wring it out as I get out, draining the water from the bath.  
Once I'm dry, I give attention to my hair. It's growing long now, and blonde as my mother's once was. My father often tells me I resemble my mother more and more each day.  
I comb my hair straight and let it dry as I dress. A white dress and a frock have been selected for me today. First, I put on my undergarments and then the frock, wiggling the dress on afterward. It's a nice fit, but I think the color washes out my face.

I am slipping on my shoes when my father knocks on my door. In a moment, I answer it, after I've gotten my other shoe on. He greets me with a one-armed hug and a warm smile. I can see he's hiding something behind his back.

"Good afternoon my daughter." He says with another smile.

I peer around his broad shoulder. "What have you got behind your back?"

He chuckles and brings his arm forward, showing me a small basket full of fresh strawberries. "Just a token of good luck for you today," he admits, offering them up for my selection.

I can feel my mouth watering. They look delicious. As rare as they are, I know exactly where they've come from. I'm not sure I want to even touch them, let alone eat them. "I'm not hungry," I lie.

"Come on, Madge. You've only had your name entered six times now." My father says with a slight frown.

At least he's not picked up on the real reason I don't want to eat the strawberries. I clasp my hands in my lap. "I know. I'm still nervous."  
He sighs and takes my hands in his, pushing the berries into my palm. "Everything is going to be fine."

I give him a weak smile, which is enough for him, and he turns to leave. I watch him as he disappears down the hall, and take the strawberries back into my room, closing the door behind me.

I sit on my bed, staring at the pot of strawberries that have my stomach rumbling. Gale's face appears in my mind as I pick one up by the stem and give it a sniff. It's sweet fragrance hits me like a wall of bricks, and I give a soft groan. It's all I can do to avoid eating them. I hate knowing that these berries have been picked by his hands. I hate knowing that I will see him in an hour and will have to thank him for the food that should be going to Prim. Guilt shakes through my limbs as I stare at the fruits. Of course, my father has probably paid more than what they are worth, but I still feel awful, taking the fruit from stomachs that need it more than mine.

After some time of staring at the ripe, red berries I finally give in. I eat half of the pot and set it aside, not wanting to waste them. Fruit like this is hard to come by, especially on days like today. Maybe, if I make it back, I'll eat them later as a celebratory snack that I have survived yet another year of reapings.

Two o'clock dawns on me too fast. I'm being summoned down to the foyer by my father.

Too soon, I'm in the square in front of the Justice Building. An orderly line of possible tributes has formed in front of the stage to be archived. I take my place in line, just as the previous years before. I see people from my class, people from our town and even children I don't recognize. An air of silence falls over us as we file in, one by one being archived by peacekeepers.  
My turn comes and my finger is pricked, a drop of my blood bubbling up on the pad of my index finger. The woman at the desk presses my finger onto a piece of paper with my name and photo on it, and my blood smears on a square box on the page. She waves me off and calls for the next person.

I file into the crowd of girls on the right side. I exchange a few words with a few girls I know, but ultimately fall silent as I watch the others slowly trickle in. Maybe this year will be another year free from the terror of dying.

As the rest of the girls and boys are filed in, I catch a glimpse of Prim. She's a few rows ahead of me, her hair tied into the braid that Katniss wore last year. I remember thinking that it suited her, but on Prim, it looks bulky and too big for her tiny head. Her cheekbones stick out like sore thumbs. Almost without thinking, my eyes drift toward the sea of boys. I can see Peeta's brother in the crowd; it will be the last year he's in the reaping.  
At least he looks better than Prim.

While I let my eye wander over the crowd, waiting for my father to take the stage, I find Gale's face. And he's looking back at me.  
My heart does a flip in my chest. I've been trying to avoid him, and he's been staring at me. I can still feel his gaze fixed on me as my father ascends the steps to give his speech.  
I look up at the stage, suddenly transfixed by the fascinating routine up there. There could be nothing up there and I'd still watch with interest. Anything to get me out of looking at Gale again.  
Shame runs up my spine as I watch, my father's repetitive words slurring out in what seems to be one breath. I've given up on listening. It's not like it matters much anyway.  
During this time, Effie and Haymitch have already taken the stage as well, and have sat down while my father speaks. Once he is done, Effie stands, seemingly happy to be rid of sitting next to Haymitch.  
She crosses the stage to the podium and begins her blathering about the Capitol, though her words seem more hollow than last year. Perhaps she remembers Katniss and Peeta the same way we all do.

I watch the video about the uprising and keep my eyes glued to the screen while I let my mind wander. No one speaks, but none of us are really watching. We all know what is coming next.  
The two glass bowls that hold our names and our possible doom are the same ones from last year. This year, two new names will be added to gravestones, most likely, and there won't be any bodies to bury.  
**  
**"Let's get to it, shall we?" Effie asks rhetorically as she strides toward the boys' bowl. A small murmur runs through the crowd as she does this. Her usual role is selecting the females first, though this year she has chosen to select the boys first. Perhaps it is out of respect for Katniss' family. She puts her hand in the bowl and draws a name as a hush falls over the rest of us. All of us are secretly praying, hoping that it's not someone we hold close.

_Gale_

I hate this day.

I hate a lot of days, but this one packs a particular punch. It is on this day a year ago, after all, that I lost her. I lost my best friend. I'd like to think that we were more than that; that she knew that I loved her. I loved that she was different; how she refused to bend. I'll never forget, watching her as she volunteered herself to take her sister's place in the Games. I'll never forget the feeling as my heart fell to the pit of my stomach, knowing that on the small chance that she returned, my life with her would never be the same again.

I spent a lot of time preparing for her return. I'd broached the subject before the Games, but she'd refused. This time, I wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. Us and our families, we were going into the forest. I'd done a lot of trading in the Hob, making sure that we got things that we needed.

But Katniss never came back.

I didn't cry when I saw her die. All I felt was cold, sick. A numbness spread through my body and I don't think it's left me. I knew what I had to do. I knew what this would do to Mrs. Everdeen and Prim. I knew I had to take care of them, because Katniss couldn't anymore. I knew it would be difficult, but there's no helping it. No going back now.

I wake up and no one talks to me; my mother loved Katniss too, and she knows that this day is hard for me. Not that other days aren't, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she silently offers me a bowl of meal and nuts, but I shake my head. I am not hungry today. She doesn't insist.

It is early morning, too early for the reaping to begin. I revel in the quiet; today the miners won't be trudging to work. The people of the Seam are particularly nervous, as they are every year, because here our names are in there the most. Here we have everything to lose, and have done it time and time again. This year it is the Quarter Quell; I know that we will be losing much more than usual.

My morning is spent in the forest. I do not hunt; instead I just sit. I do not want to go. I want to stay here forever, in a place where things aren't so bad. In this place Katniss is alive. I can pretend that I am waiting for her to join me, that she is stalking a deer or a rabbit somewhere in the woods. She will emerge any minute now, and she will have with her her prize. Together we will go down to the Hob, and we will get our earnings. Our families will be proud of us. In this place it is not reaping day, just another, normal one.

All too soon my fantasy comes crashing down. None of this is happening. Katniss is not stalking a deer or even a rabbit. She is not setting traps. She has not gotten caught up in trying to leave the Seam. She merely does not exist in this world anymore. The knowledge knocks the air out of me, strangely enough; it's not like I haven't thought about it before. Maybe it's because it's _that_ day, the day that is significant only because it led to her death. In a few weeks time, we will be forced to relive all of it over again. The Capitol will enjoy it as they rub it in our faces, how we lost our precious Katniss, the Girl on Fire. How we lost her pretend lover, how he had worked to save her. If only he had.

Despite everything in me that tells me to run, I make my way back to the District. I put away Katniss' bow; I'm not nearly as good as she is, but I've been practising. I am not dressed up this year; not like all the others. I can't do it. I don't care. My name is in there a staggering forty-eight times, but it doesn't matter. Not this year. This year my results are fixed, and that isn't going to change.

This year, I am going to volunteer.

My family doesn't know. I know that if I had told them they would have protested. I know they will, but it will be too late. I know it will hurt them, but they will understand. They see how much losing Katniss has hurt me, even if I have yet to shed even a single tear. More than that, I have a burning hatred for the Capitol. I always have, but this has made it worse. There have been rumours, uprisings in other Districts; Katniss had captures the heart of many people, and the Capitol was paying for its mistakes. Small fires were cropping up, starting in District 11. Things are getting worse, I'm hoping they'll reach a boiling point. I want to be there when it does.

I go by my house to pick up my siblings, and I take a moment to kiss my mother's cheek. They are all dressed in their finest, their faces grave.  
"Gale," my mother calls, and I pause to look back at her. I see it in her eyes; she knows that I am going to do something.  
She sighs, suddenly looking much older than she should. The Seam does this to everyone, but days like today especially. "I love you, all of you," she says then, seemingly resigning herself and us to this fate.

I also go to get Prim; I do not want her walking to the square by herself. Even if I cannot stand with her, I know that she feels a horrible guilt. It should have been her, not Katniss.

As I am filed into line with the others I go through the motions. I can see the fear on everyone's faces, but I know that the boys are safe. I want to tell them so; I want to tell them that they have nothing to fear this year. That they can go home safe tonight because it is me that will be taking that dreaded spot. They can live to see another year...more, if I can help it. This year is going to be different. I am not stopping until the Capitol has at least learned a lesson.

I do not even flinch when they prick my finger. I look up and see a familiar face, though I cannot say that I am fond of it. Madge is dressed in a pretty white dress, more expensive than anything my entire family could ever own. She is perhaps the only person without any tesserae; she doesn't need it. I don't know much about her, only that I do not like her just on principle. Madge will never understand what it is like to live like us. She doesn't belong here. I realise that I've been staring, and I turn away to go and join the other boys my age.

There are no smiles in this crowd, not even a murmur as people discussed what they were doing here. No polite hellos and how are yous...just sombre, ashen faces. They all know the odds; if Katniss Everdeen couldn't survive, what hope did they have? I watch and I wait, my eyes fixed on the platform in front of the Justice Building as I wait for the Capitol filth to come and ruin our lives. If I have anything to say about it, and I have plenty, this will be the last time.

The mayor offers his speech, but I am not listening. No one is. I cast a glance over at Madge...she is standing in my line of sight in exactly the same place that Katniss was last year. Or at least, that's what it seems. Resentment burns in my gut, I know that out of everyone, Madge is one of the safest. I wish Katniss were here. I wish I could look over and see her, grey eyes fixed on the front, worry etched onto her features as she thought about her sister. I tear my eyes away and find Prim, she is focused. Her face mirrors that of everyone else.

There is nothing worse than standing here, being forced to watch the propaganda that the Capitol feeds us. I am interested to note, however, that Effie doesn't seem quite as enthusiastic as last year. It's almost as if there is a light gone from her eyes; that maybe the magic of the Capitol is slowly giving way to reality for her. Oh, she'd never give up her fancy house and clothes, but maybe she's beginning to see that things aren't what she thought. I still hate her. That won't change.

I watch as Effie makes her way over to the boy's bowl. This sends a slight shock through the crowd around me; they are not expecting this. Honestly I am surprised; they are so set in their ways that even a minor deviation like this is a big deal. It doesn't matter; it means that these boys will be put to ease sooner than later.

My heart is drumming in my ears and I clench my fists at my side. I want to do this. My body is trembling and there is something coursing through my veins that I do not understand. Is it fear? Maybe. Some fear is good, but I'll save it for the arena. A healthy dose of it might keep me alive. It will keep me cautious.

Effie reaches her delicate, manicured hand into the bowl and fishes around, plucking out a single, folded piece of paper. The way they do this here is arcane, and I can't help but wonder if the richer districts have it different. The crowd collectively holds its breath as she unfolds the paper; it seems to take hours, everything is in slow motion. I am simply waiting for my opportunity to speak.


	2. Chapter II

So I am aware that, technically, Gale is too old to go into the Games. BUT...it's AU, right? And it's fan_fiction_. And I am the author (sort of. The way this works is I've written the Gale POV and my friend has done the Madge POV), so I get to do what I want.

Haha.

Chapter II

_Gale_

I watch carefully with an unyielding gaze as Effie opens her mouth to read a name. When she finally does I don't hear it. All that matters is that the name is not mine. Looks like it's a young boy; I can see the crowd parting off to my side as they look at him, his doe-eyes wide with fright. He thinks he is going to die. I will see to it that he lives another year.

Shoving my way passed the stunned crowd around me I am moving, and suddenly the attention is on me. I am in the aisle before anyone on stage figures it out, and I cast a glance back towards where my mother is standing. She is in the crowd of anxious parents, but I see the look of terrified resignation on her face. She knew this was coming.

"I volunteer," I announce, making my way willingly up the aisle to the stage. Katniss was the first volunteer, I will not make her the last. "I volunteer as tribute." My words are deliberate; I have chosen them carefully. They are exactly what Katniss herself had spoken a year ago on this day. I don't know if anyone will recognise this, nor understand the homage, but I don't care. This is between me and her. No one else.

No one cheers as I make my way to the stage, though I can hear a chocked sob in the crowd. The boy who'd thought his death was so certain has crumpled with relief; I spare him a glance. I can see the gratitude shining in his tear-filled eyes. I nod to him before turning my gaze, full of hate and of hurt, towards the Mayor and Effie and Haymith. I am not going to be a pleasant tribute to train, but I do not care.

My footsteps echo loudly as I make my way up, and once on stage I turn to look out at the crowd, my eyes hard and my jaw set. My hands are still clenched into fists at my side, but I am no longer trembling with that unknown sensation. I almost feel liberated; exhilarated, even.

Effie notices my reaction and the crowds, perhaps having flashbacks to last year. She is suddenly uncertain, that carefully sculpted, superficial mask showing its cracks for just a moment. "O-oh, so we have a volunteer! Isn't that wonderful. Two years in a row! My, we might just have a District of Careers cropping up!" Her laughter is forced and falls flat on the crowd, which is suddenly restless. Effie has made a tasteless joke, and she seems to have realised it.

"What is your name, sweetie?" she asks after clearing her throat.

"Gale Hawthorne," I answer, though my gaze is fixed on a faraway point on the horizon. I don't want anything to do with Effie.

"Well! Lovely to have you. Let's see who your partner will be!" she announces, flitting over to the girls' names.

I don't care who it is. So long as it isn't Prim, things will be alright. I am going to win this, and I am going to bring the Capitol down when I do. Whoever the girl is, I will not show her mercy. Perhaps I will let someone else kill her, but that is as far as my compassion will allow me to go. Nothing will get in the way of what I want. I will do this for myself, for my family, and for Katniss.

_Madge_

I keep my head held high and my eyes forward as Effie reaches into the bowl, picking out a random name. All I can think is that I'm sorry for whoever it is.  
As it turns out, the selected tribute is a young boy, who couldn't have been older than twelve. He looks frighteningly similar to Prim in size and stature, though he has the eyes and hair of a Seam boy. I can see him shaking as he starts forward, but then something else happens.

Gale is moving forward, pushing his way through the people in front of him, a deathly serious look on his face. My mouth goes dry. I know what is going to happen next. I felt the same way last year watching Katniss volunteer to fill Prim's place. My feet feel like they're stuck to the ground, rooted like I've been frozen in ice. Gale's voice rises up through the stunned silence.

_"I volunteer."_  
_"I volunteer as tribute."_

I risk a glance at Gale's mother. She looks terrified for her son, but something about her expression says that she knew it was coming. Ever since Katniss died, he hadn't been the same, and I haven't been the only one to notice it.

Gale has always been hostile towards me. Perhaps it's because I've never had to scrounge for food. Perhaps it's because I don't have a family to provide for. Perhaps it's because my family isn't broken.  
I know he wouldn't give me a second thought if it meant my death... but I've always admired him for doing what he does for his family.

I don't know what it is that makes him hate me, and I can't help but pity him even now. In his hour of redemption, he's done something so terribly stupid, I can't bear it. He means to stir something up - I know this much by the look on his face and by the words he used - regardless of caring whether he lives or dies in the process. Who would provide for his brothers and sister then? Does he think that no one cares for him? Just because Katniss is gone doesn't mean he has to follow suit. Katniss wouldn't want that for him, either. She'd want him to be there for Prim and Rory, Vick and Posy.

Suddenly, I feel angry. My face is flushed with red as I look at Gale's face. I want to march up on stage and put him in his place, but even I know that it will do nothing. What's done is done. Effie asks his name after making an insulting joke. He replies, though he refuses to give her even a direct gaze. This only proves to infuriate me even more.

A stir is still running through the crowd when Effie moves toward the girls' bowl, sticking that same manicured hand into the bowl, scrounging for another name. Before she's even got the first syllable of a name out, my hand shoots up into the air.  
"I volunteer!" I call, my face still blushing a deep, ruby red.  
My head is swirling as so many familiar faces turn on me. Curious, stunned faces are pressing in on me, making me feel lightheaded. I know what they're thinking. Why have I done it? I don't know, myself, for sure.

I take one step forward. Then another. And another, until the crowd of girls is parting before me. I keep my eyes on Gale until I am on the stage. My father looks terrified as Gale's mother, though he hadn't seen my volunteering as a possibility, ever. Even I hadn't, until I witnessed Gale's act of rebellion.

Effie looks amazed, yet again. Her painted, powder blue eyes are round, her matching lips pinched into a surprised pout. "My!" She shrills, snapping out of her confusion."Another volunteer!" She seems to be rather happy about it. Effie waves me toward her, to stand on the other side of Gale. I do my best to hold my head high.

"And what is your name?" She asks me with a smile.

"Madge Undersee." I say, my voice audibly cracking. I'm trying to be brave, but it's becoming harder and harder.

"Well, isn't that nice!" Effie shrills again, putting her hands on both mine and Gale's shoulder. She looks to the crowd with an award-winning smile. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

I am only beginning to regret my decision as Effie steps back with us, and my father stands and advances toward the microphone. He gives me a desperate look in passing as he stumbles in front of the microphone, barely able to read out the Treaty without breaking up at least once per sentence. For a moment, I have solace and I breathe deeply out of my mouth, staring at my shoes. I have shamed and disappointed him.. and for a reason I don't know why. I'm sure he'll have plenty to say to me in a few moments, but on stage, he can't.

He finishes by asking Gale and I to shake hands, and it's then that I know I have made a poor choice. His hand reaches toward mine and he takes it without hesitation. His grip is sure and strong... but his hand is warm and rough. I can feel the callouses from hard work scratching at my skin. Those skilled hands stand a much better chance at surviving the games than I would even in a million years.  
He looks at me with a stern, hard look on his face and I do my best to mirror it, though my face probably looks more ridiculous than anything else. He towers above me, intimidating in all facets of the word. But, I shake his hand and then we are separated.

I can still feel the hard grip clenching my hand and the warmth from his fingers across the back of my palm as the peacekeepers escort me into the Justice building.

I have been here before, on several occasions with my father. They lead me into one of the rooms that I have only been in once before. It's the same room that I saw Katniss in last year when I gave her my pin. I suspect it is one used for tributes and their families. Only, this time, I'm the tribute.

_Gale_

I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter who it is. There will be twenty-four of us; I just have to make sure to be far away from her. That way someone else can kill her. A part of me feels guilty, already plotting the death of one of the faces that is peering up at me. Faces like Prim's, and eventually Posy's. I will make sure that Prim will never have to stand here like this again, and Posy will never have to start. I shove back the guilt that twists in my gut; I can't let it get to me.

Time slows once more as Effie reaches in to produce the name of another unfortunate soul. I could maybe try and recruit her to my cause, but then I decide that it would be too much. Just a girl, after all, and not a girl like Katniss. There will never be another girl like Katniss. That I am sure of.

I don't even flinch as the sound of the paper being unfolded echoes through the silent square. My mind is elsewhere, thinking of things that I will do to the Capitol and the better days that will come to District 12 because of them. Silently I make a vow; District 12 will never have another reaping. We will find a way to break away, to live in peace.

My thoughts are interrupted as Effie is barely able to get the first few letters of the name on the paper out. The name doesn't matter now, because someone else has volunteered. I don't recognise the voice at first, and I tell myself it still doesn't matter. But then, out of the corner of my eye I see the crowd parting, the shocked looks on their faces. Unable to remain apathetic for any longer I turn my gaze towards the widening gap, and I am shocked at the sight.

Madge Undersee has volunteered.

_Madge Undersee_.

In that moment I know that my face is no longer set in the harsh look that I had hoped for. I wanted to be intimidating; the picture of solidarity for all the other districts to see. Instead, my eyes are wide and after a moment I realise that my mouth is hanging open; I snap it shut. Madge makes her way up to join me on the stage.

For a moment I cast the mayor a look, and he is perhaps more shocked than the rest of them. It is almost unheard of, for the child of one in power over a District to get called into the reaping. He is struggling, his emotions flickering between rage and horror and sadness. I can see that he wants to protest, to tell her to be quiet and sit back down and be the good little girl that she is. Daddy's little girl. Maybe for the first time is the Mayor truly understanding what it's like, and perhaps the seeds of rebellion have been sown in him as well. I can only hope.

Still, there is another matter at hand...this changes things. I don't know why or how, but it does.

There are a few moments of silence and Effie Trinket gives the Mayor a few expectant looks. She doesn't seem to have connected that it is in fact his daughter that she has clasped her hand around, his girl that she's sending to slaughter. The pain on his face is enough for me to pity him but only for a moment; he is not the first parent to suffer.

Mayor Undersee stumbles a little as he comes forward to read the Treaty of Treason, his voice cracking over the first few lines. He is barely holding it together. When it's finished he can't even look at us; instead he just motions for us to shake hands, and the anthem starts to play. I hate that song.

Reaching out I take Madge's hand, and I try to replace the hard look on my face. I think she's absolutely insane and I wonder why she's done it...I don't understand. She's got a good, cushy life with enough food and money to sustain her and whatever family she decides to have. Her children won't have to worry either; she will probably be one of the few mothers never to have to lose her children to the reaping. Her husband will not have to go into the mines. Madge will not have to suffer at all for the rest of her life.

Why would she give that up now?

The anthem is over, and so is the reaping. Peacekeepers surround us, herding Madge and I into the Justice Building. A moment of sanity grips me and I look back, searching for my family in the crowd...but they are lost in the sea of faces. I will see them in a few moments...for the last time.


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

_Madge_

As expected, I sit down on the singular couch in the room and expect my first visitor. I can already tell who it's going to be.  
Sure enough, my father bursts through the door, all kinds of hysterical. Tears are running down his face, but he's beet red like he's been running for miles. "Madge! What have you done?" he demands as I stand.

"I don't know..." I confess, suddenly ashamed. I stare at my shoes.

"You were safe for another year! How could you do this?"

"I had to." I murmur, unsure of how to explain something that I'm not even sure about.

My father places his hands on my shoulders and shakes me until I look at him. "Madge!" He says once I look up at him, tears rimming my eyes. "Please! Tell me why!"

I stay silent, trying desperately to hide my shame.

My father takes his hands from my shoulders and steps back from me. "It's that boy, isn't it? Gale?"

I keep my lips sealed. A few tears roll down my cheeks.

"How could I have been so blind?"

A few moments of silence pass between us. I'm committed to thinking that he's disappointed in me and furious with my stupid decision when he nears me again. This time, he takes me in his arms and hugs me tightly.

I jump at the touch, but warm to the familiar embrace before long. I know there are only a few seconds left until the peacekeepers take my father away. "I love you, Madge," he says, his tone hushed. "I just wish you hadn't done that."

Before I can reply, the door bursts open and peacekeepers are escorting my father from the room.

"I love you too," I whisper as the door closes and my father disappears. "I'm sorry."

I wait in silence again, sinking back down onto the couch. For a while, no one enters the room. I have no other family, no friends good enough to pay me a final farewell. I wonder if everyone has actually hated me from the start, or if none of them have actually ever cared for me. I also wonder if Katniss was still alive, would she have come to see me?

No one else arrives to bid me goodbye. When the door opens, it's only peacekeepers sent to escort me to the train. I am taken from the Justice Building only to enter a car on the way to the train station. I have been in a car before, but it feels like the first time. I stare in wonder as the world of District 12 rushes past me. I try to soak it all in before it's taken away from me. I am committing the last of it to memory by the time the car stops, and I am escorted onto the train by a chipper Effie Trinket. She's blathering about something as I'm taken aboard, I am so far away from listening I might as well be sleeping.

I smile and nod at her as she leads the way into one of the cars. I am used to fine things, but this blows me away. Clear crystal chandeliers are hung from the ceiling, and plush chairs are scattered elegantly along the car's body. It's a beautiful, magnificent sight, unlike anything I've ever seen before. Food lines tables and decorates silver platters. I'm sure there is enough here to feed a small army.

I sink into one of the plushy arm chairs as Effie goes back down to the platform to (I assume) bring Gale aboard the train. For the moment, I'm not going to worry about talking to him. As long as I avoid him, I'll be fine.

_Gale _

As we're led into the Justice Building my mind is turning; I don't understand this. First of all, I don't understand why Madge would volunteer. Madge, the Mayor's daughter. The girl in District 12 who has it all. Second, I don't understand why it matters. Why I care. Somehow it has thrown me for a loop, and I don't know why. It's just Madge Undersee. I don't like Madge. I've never liked her. I might even hate her.

Something in me protests at that thought; okay, I don't hate her. But I still don't like her.

I have to banish these thoughts from my mind, because now it is time for the last few moments with my family. My throat closes at the thought, and seconds after the door closes it bursts open again. Posy comes running and I crouch, taking her small form into my arms. I love my sister; I love my whole family. I really do. My whole family, Vick and Rory and Mom, they encircle me with their arms. We are not usually an affectionate family, but these are exceptional circumstances.

"I'm coming back," I promise, "I'm coming back and none of you will ever have to go. No one will. You hear me? I'm going to fix this."

My mother looks at me warily, but she knows there is resolution on my face. There will be no changing my mind. "Just...be careful Gale. Remember...remember us. Don't do anything stupid, okay?" she says, and her voice cracks. Hazelle Hawthorne, the picture of strength in the Seam. Finally on the verge of breaking down because her eldest son is on the brink of death. But I'm not; I'll show them. I've done a lot in this past year, stuff that should help me win. That's how long I've been planning this.

Our time is up, and Posy starts to cry. My mother chokes on a few sobs and I watch her trying to hold back the tears. She has been the picture of strength since Father died, and I know that she will continue to be strong.

The Peacekeepers have to pull Posy from my arms and I can see the firm look in Rory's eyes. He will take care of them while I am away. He is the only one that believes my promise; that believes I am really coming back.

For the first time since losing Katniss I feel my throat constrict, allowing the pain to truly show on my face. I know this will be difficult. This is not an easy road, but it is the one I have been asked to take. I cannot abandon it now.

As the door closes I feel a chill wash over me. The last time I was in this room, the circumstances were much different. I was the visitor, and Katniss was here. In the silence I can hear the conversation clear as day, and it haunts me. This is the same room that she was in; I can't help but wonder if that was done on purpose. I told her she would win. She promised me she would. I gave her strict instructions and tips, but they didn't work. She failed.

Just like my mother, I am on the verge of losing it. I can't though; not now. It is in this room though that the crushing weight falls all around me and I finally understand the gravity of the situation. There is no escaping it though, and I must go on.

Everything is a blur as I am put into a car. It is my first time, but it hardly holds the magic that I always thought it would. I watch as the world around me slowly fades away, the grey of the Seam fading somewhere into the distance. I am determined to see it again; to fix this. I _will_ come back.

I am suddenly at the train station, and Effie Trinket is there to greet me. Her hair is impossibly a different colour, and I can't help but wonder if she's in fact wearing a wig. Perhaps all the people in the Capitol are bald; the thought amuses me, even if it doesn't show on my face. Effie tries to talk to me but her prattling doesn't register, and I am herded on board this train that will shuttle me to my doom. No, my destiny.

Nearly as soon as I am on board the train starts to move; slowly a first, but quickly reaching its top speed. I look around the car, seeing more food and finery than I have ever seen over the course of my life, and it further drives a wedge of hatred into me. How could they? The people of the Seam had died for less food than this. I could only imagine what they would do if they ever saw this much food in one place; the celebration that would take place. The hoarding, the savouring. I can only hope that once this is all over I will be able to feed my family like this. All families like this.

It is a few moments before I notice that Madge is here, seated firmly in one of the plush chairs that dot the room. I glance out the window and see that we are moving at remarkable speeds, though it does not feel like we are moving at all. I realise that Effie has been talking this whole time, blathering on about the silverware and the food and how much we will love the Capitol. I have to restrain myself from saying something mean; Effie doesn't seem to be a horrible person. Tasteless and ignorant, but that doesn't warrant the kind of comments that I would like to give her. Despite all appearances, I do have _some_ discretion in me.

Finally she stops, realising that neither party in her audience are listening. There is some nervous laughter before she excuses herself; she says something about getting Haymitch. I couldn't care less.

A few more moments pass and my stomach growls and turns at the same time as the rich scent of the food really hits me, but I ignore it still. "Why did you do it?" I finally ask, my voice not as harsh as I had meant for it to be. She'd been stupid. A complete idiot. What is her game? What is she trying to achieve? I don't understand what has brought her here when she had the free ticket out. No, she chose to be here with me. District 12 had two volunteers this year...that ought to make headlines.

_Madge_

I only have to wait a few minutes until Effie is back, this time with Gale in tow. He doesn't seem to notice me - or if he does, he doesn't care. Effie is off again, blathering about something stupid like the grand wallpaper of the train or the food. To be honest, I'm hungry, but I'm not hungry enough to eat anything on this train. At least, not yet. My cheeks flush as I notice my ignorance. I'm refusing food that is being handed out limitlessly, when there are so many people starving back in the Seam. I wish I could open the train windows and throw it out, but by the time Gale is on board, we have already started moving. Maybe I'll throw food out of the window anyway. The starving birds along the way to the districts will eat richly today.

I push my face into my palm, my elbow supporting my weight on the chair's arm. My gaze goes to the window again, and I'm taken away by the speed that the train is reaching. The scene outside is melting away and I can't feel a single quiver underneath my feet. It might be terribly impressive if I didn't know where we were headed.

For a while, Effie allows herself to prattle before she realizes her words are falling on deaf ears. Neither Gale or myself are listening, and she finally takes the hint. Excusing herself, she disappears behind the car door, leaving Gale and I to share some awkward silence. Exactly what I needed. I sort of wish that Effie were still here, just to keep Gale and I away from each other. I know he's going to say something about the reaping.

Sure enough, just as I'm hoping he won't, he opens his mouth and asks the question I know is on his mind.  
I keep my eyes trained on the window, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my face. Already, I'm starting to get angry, thinking about his mother and siblings."Why'd you do it?" I ask in return, not bothering to answer his question. "You have a lot more to lose than me." It may have been a bit harsher than I had wanted it to be, but I've never been known for being delicate when it comes to things I'm passionate about.

I don't know why it bothers me so much that Gale has volunteered, so much so that I've decided to commit myself to death for it. My mind wanders back to Katniss as I watch the trees of District 12 fly past the window. I sigh.

"Nevermind," I interject before he can speak, "I know why you did it." I turn to face him, a scowl set on my lips. "I know it's because of Katniss." My face is growing hotter as I blush fervently. "Tell me I'm wrong?"

_Gale_

As I'm watching her she turns the question back on me, and I am stunned into silence. What does she mean, why did I do it? Why does she even care? She doesn't know what it's like in the Seam, to fight for survival every single day, or close to it. She doesn't know what it's like to move around the Hob, knowing that despite the well-known trading spot one still has to be careful. District 12 is no longer the District the Capitol Forgot. Katniss and Peeta saw to that.

Madge amends, answering her own question for me. I am appalled. Did she think I was so shallow? Katniss meant a lot to me. The world, maybe, but I am able to function outside of her memory. Yes, I focus on it a lot, and and I have changed since her death...but this is bigger. This is more than just some thirst for revenge. Maybe it is truly revenge, but not for what she or anyone else thinks. My ambitions are bigger than that. Katniss the Girl on Fire caused a spark, and I am coming to fan it to flame.

She's blushing, and that just confuses me. Why would she be blushing? I don't really understand girls. Just Katniss.

"You're wrong," I challenge, my voice strong. She's wrong and so is everyone else. "Maybe she started it, but she's not the only reason. Not why I volunteered. I'm going to fix things," I said, testing the waters a little. That could mean a lot of things without having to give away my plan. Not that I have one, other than to shoot an arrow through President Snow's eye. I am resourceful, for all my years in the Seam. I will find a way.

I move closer to her, knowing that we probably have little time before Effie returns, procuring a drunk Haymitch. Effie might be too far in her own world to care and Haymitch too drunk understand anything, but I know that I must be careful with my words. I saw what small acts of rebellion on Katniss' part did, and I don't think she was even doing it intentionally. I, on the other hand, plan to start this fire from the beginning.

Sitting down across from her I lean forward, clasping my hands and resting my elbows on my knees. My steel gaze is hard and unwavering; I am still trying to solve this mystery that has presented itself, this mystery that is Madge Undersee. "You still haven't answered my question," I point out, letting her know that she is not off the hook.

_Madge_

My face is set into what feels like a permanent scowl. Gale is making me so angry, pushing buttons that I didn't even know I had. It seems impossible that he's doing it by accident. He's not even trying to offend me and I'm all up in a tizzy by the time he's even opened his mouth. All it took was four little words. 'I volunteer as tribute.'

Gale speaks and if it's possible, I blush more. He's blatantly told me that I'm wrong that his entire reason for this was Katniss. I'm not green - I know she had a large part in it, but maybe he's telling the truth. Still, I'm not entirely convinced. "Do you honestly think Katniss would want this for you?" I ask. "Do you think she'd want you to leave Prim and Posy and your brothers without a brother and a provider?" I glance down at the floor, my cheeks still burning bright like a hot piece of coal. "Everything Katniss did, it was for Prim. You're just doing this for yourself, convincing yourself that it's for her and them."

He's asked about my reason for being here, again. I know it can't be long until Effie and Haymitch join us - and honestly, I'm looking forward to them barging in, just so I don't have to talk to Gale anymore. I know he won't drop it until he finds out exactly why I'm here. But, let him ask, because even I'm not sure why I'm on this damn train, following this self righteous, rage fueled, vengeful idiot.

"You weren't the only one that knew Katniss." I mention, smoothing down my skirt. I'm still not giving him the courtesy of looking him in the eye. "I'm not going to sit by idly and disgrace her memory if I can help it." Though I'm not sure what was going on between Gale and Katniss, I knew she cared for him a great deal."She cared for you, Gale. I don't think she would want to see you like this. I-"

I'm cut off by the train door opening, with Haymitch promptly falling forward out of it. He stumbles and manages to catch his footing, but he reeks of alcohol even from where I'm sitting. Effie is tailing him, pinching her painted nose shut.

Haymitch looks to us, a strange smile on his lips. "Look at that. Two volunteers!" He staggers towards us and falls into a chair close to mine. "Why are you both so eager to die?" Reaching toward the nearest bottle, Haymitch uncorks it with his teeth and takes a swig. "On your last year, too," he notions to Gale with a nod of his head. Then, he turns to me. "I don't even know why you'd ever volunteer. But, congratulations on your imminent death."

Effie gathers in beside us, putting a hand on my shoulder, her other hand still pinching her nose.  
"Don't listen to him, I think it's a step in the right direction!" She shrills with a smile. Maybe she thinks we're going to start a trend of volunteering. There is a message across the loudspeaker then; an automated voice telling us that we are leaving District 12. Well, there is really no going back now. Ahead of us are only the Capitol...and the Games.


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

_Gale_

Madge talks about Katniss then, and my eyes narrow. The rage from earlier has not died, but at least I am silent. I don't know how it's going to work with the both of us in there, but right now I am mad enough to decide that I don't care if she dies. That I don't care that she _will_ die. Where does she get off thinking that she knows what Katniss thinks? I can feel it building in me again, but before she can finish her sentence Effie is back, forcing a very drunk Haymitch, as predicted, into the room.

After stumbling around he manages to find a spot in a chair without falling flat on his face; I don't understand how he won all those years ago. I don't understand why he is our mentor, but I know that we have no choice. I must gleam from him what I can, even if most of it will be useless. I shoot Effie a glare at her words and she shrinks back, but quickly recovers.

"My, and I thought Katniss was hostile! You'll come to enjoy it though. I'm going to have some afternoon tea, if any of you would like to join me," she announces, and I roll my eyes.

I turned my gaze back to Haymitch, and he laughs. He can tell that I am unimpressed with this whole thing, and he slurs something along the lines of agreeing with Effie on this one.

"I'm not dying," I tell him. There is conviction in my voice, and it causes him to stare at me a moment.  
"You know, that's a rather bold statement for someone who's about to face twenty...two, give or take, of the fiercest warriors you've ever seen," he says, casting Madge a glance. I can tell he's already written her off; she is the delicate mayor's daughter. But he eyes her again, and I wonder if maybe he's up to something. She volunteered, after all. Maybe he thinks she has something to offer. I am not convinced.

My face is unchanged. "Things are going to be different this year," I tell him, and despite the fact that he is a raging alcoholic, I wonder if there isn't some perceptiveness in Haymitch after all. The moment passes quickly, and he takes another swig of his drink before turning to Madge.

"So, sweetheart, what have you got to offer us?" I turn my eyes to her, since I am wondering the same thing. Technically she has still not given me a reason for her volunteering, and I am curious as to why she thinks that it was a good idea.

_Madge _

My face is still burning hot as I gaze back out of the window. I don't want to talk to any of them, and I guess I could leave, if I knew where I was going. They've got to have some sort of sleeping compartments, haven't they? I'm toying with the idea of just removing myself from everyone when Effie begins to prattle again, this time telling of Gale for something that I'm not sure of. I haven't been paying attention, and maybe it's for the better. He's given me a lot to think about. Maybe I'll come to fully regret my decision when we finally go to sleep. In the dark, my mind will possess me to relive the conversation. I'll see his eyes again, and feel the red hot blush on my cheeks as I think of the way he looked at me with such hate. What have I done to make him hate me so?

Even though I am not alone, I know it's only a matter of time before I am. Even in Gale's presence, I'm still free from bursting into tears. If I think about the girl that I've saved from the reaping, maybe it will stave them off for a while.

I am watching the world pass us by when Effie concludes her statement with an invitation to afternoon tea. Tea and coffee are rare in our district, though I've had both of them before. I shake my head and watch her as she baby steps her way to the table fixed in the middle of the car, close to the back. At least she is far away from us, but now there's only two other people near enough to talk to, and Gale has decided that he's going to get the ball rolling.

He declares that he's not going to die.  
I already know this much. He knows how to hunt, and to snare and build fires and find shelter. I know none of these things.  
If anyone stands a chance, it might be Gale.

Haymitch takes the opportunity to retaliate by indirectly insulting me. I let the words slide off my back. At least I won't have to think about having to kill anyone for a while. Not until the Games begin, anyway.

I give him a short glare. He doesn't seem to mind - his eyes are on the bottom of his bottle, anyway. He looks at me like I'm about to spring out of the shadows like a tiger, but the truth is, I'm more of a kitten, and he can tell.

By the time he puts the bottle down, he's already asking questions, this time directed to me. This time, I can not give him an answer he wants to hear. I have no special skills. I don't know how to use any weapon, let alone kill something... or someone. I'm not a particularly stealthy person, so I know that any plan to stay hidden and just wait for the others to self-destruct is not a good one either. I can't even climb a tree. "Nothing." I say. My tone is neither saddened nor defeated. I am not ashamed of who I am. Gale may think lowly of me, but even though I am not starving and haven't ever gone to bed hungry, I have never let myself be spoiled.

I smooth my dress out again. "But I try my best at everything I do.**"** No one can fault me for that, but leave it to Haymitch and Gale to try.

_Gale_

The fact that Madge doesn't even react to Haymitch's insults intrigues me; not even so much as a flicker of emotion across her face. Nothing at all, in fact, but I don't think it's ignorance. I think she just really doesn't care. Is it because she's accepted her fate? Why would she volunteer then, if she didn't truly think she had a chance? Was she suicidal or something, and was looking for a way out? No, it would be the biggest cry for attention in history, not to mention that she wouldn't be rescued from it.

I am actually intrigued to hear her answer to Haymitch's question, if only because of that rather subtle response. What does she hope to achieve? Surely she wouldn't be dumb enough to volunteer without a reason...I still haven't figured out what it is. Madge is elusive with her answers; I can't help but think that, even if Effie and Haymitch hadn't returned, I still wouldn't have gotten it out of her.

Her answer surprises me, and I see a momentary flicker across Haymitch's face, but he doesn't reveal his thoughts.

What does she mean 'nothing'? Like nothing at all? Why would she volunteer? It wasn't to save a life; they didn't even know the name of the girl who had been reaped. Madge had stepped in before that. So why? It is a mystery that I know will plague me until I solve it, and that frustrates me. I have much bigger things to worry about.

The next half of her response has me furrowing my brow; what is _that_ supposed to mean? Does she think that her apparently superhuman resolve will keep her alive? She can't run forever, the Game Makers won't allow for that. We've seen it time and time again, how the threat is not only the other players but from the arena itself as well. I don't know how they do it, but they can manipulate the arena. It is a boardgame and we are the pieces. There's nothing more to it than that.

Haymitch laughs again, taking another swig of his alcohol. Whatever it is it is strong; my nose wrinkles in disgust. The smell is putrid and it burns. "Well, what an interesting pair we have this year. Now go stuff yourselves full of food and drink, you're going to die soon anyways," he says, and stands up. Well, he tries to; it takes him at least three before he is stumbling over towards Effie, who has neatly placed herself in one of the ornate chairs surrounding the well-stocked table. Why there are so many chairs I have no idea; there are only four of us here.

Just another display of extravagance.

Leaning forward I sigh, closing my eyes as I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don't know what Haymitch's game is, but I don't think his faith in us, well, in _me_, is as loose as he seems to show. After a moment I open my eyes again, turning my gaze to Madge. I study her carefully; I still don't get it. The way she answered that question will probably keep me up tonight; she was too confident. There was no fear, no shame in her tone. Nothing to show that she even regretted what she'd done.

This is going to drive me insane.

I start to think that maybe...maybe I should tell her what I am up to, if she has not already guessed. That this is not just about winning and securing food for my family for the rest of their lives...or mine, at least.

I remember how harshly she'd responded to me earlier however, and my face falls into a frown. No, Madge would not understand. She'd probably rat me out, maybe with the hopes of finding some favour with someone. A part of me says that isn't true, but I'm going to believe it is anyways. It's just easier right now.

My stomach growls; the lure and the smell of the rich food is getting to me. I'm not going to give in. Tearing my gaze away from Madge I stand; I'm going to find a room. Maybe not to sleep, but at least to be alone. I need to think about things. "Where do we sleep?" I ask, though it is more a demand than a question.

Effie looks up, a half-eaten pastry in hand. Dabbing her lips with a cloth napkin she looks rather confused. "It's a bit early for that, don't you think? Come and have a seat, these croissants are absolutely _delicious_. The two of you are really missing out you know, and take in the sights! We'll be passing through District 11 soon, but it'll pass quickly." She sounds like some sort of tour guide. When will she figure out that I just don't care?

"I want to sleep," I insist, hopefully leaving no room for argument. Effie looks like she's about to, but Haymitch lifts an arm and points to the door that he came in earlier.  
"Two cars down," he says, his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

Without another word I leave them all then, passing through another extravagantly decorated car filled with comfortable chairs and pretty little cakes and squares set delicately onto three-tiered silver platters. Just because I can I knock one over as I pass by, sending the sweets all over the floor. A puff pastry rolls in front of me and I step on it; that's how I feel about all of this. About the Capitol. I know I will have to eat at some point, but I will make my stand of solidarity for now.

I find a room then, still somehow bigger than my entire house in the Seam. Or it feels that way; it definitely has more furniture in it. I don't want to crawl into the bed but I allow myself to flop over on it; it is the most comfortable thing I have ever laid on, and I hope that maybe this fact will help me fall asleep.

I can only hope.

I don't know if anyone has followed me, and I really don't care. I can't care. There's no point. I am alone in this, but I have been alone since Katniss died. She was my partner; I did everything with her. Yes, I love my family, but it's not the same. It's hard, knowing that so many people depend on you. I wish it wasn't like that; I wish I didn't have to go out and poach for meat. I wish I didn't have to trade on the black market. I wish that we didn't have to starve. But that's my reality, and that is why I'm going to fix it. If I don't, who will? Everyone else is too afraid. They don't see what Katniss has done, even if she did it without knowing it. District 11 is still in a state of unrest. Surely there are others, who see that this is not the way things need to be. I don't know what the world looked like in the ancient times, but it can't have been like this. I refuse to believe that this is the only way that we can survive.

At first, lying on the bed makes it impossible to to anything but think. I think about what I have done, how things have changed. I know that my family will be okay. Prim still gets extra bread from the baker, still torn up about the loss of his son. I can't say I ever had a fondness for the boy; watching him and Katniss on that screen made my blood boil and my stomach turn. I can't help but think that maybe he's the reason she died. On the other hand, I can't truly hate him. It wasn't his choice, not his fault. And now his family is suffering. I hope that when it comes, Peeta's family will fight with me. They know the kind of loss that comes with the Games. It's a different sort of loss to the one I felt when I lost my father in the mines; it was an accident. A preventable one, albeit, but still an accident. An indirect fault of the Capitol. But the Games? The Games are a constant reminder that we are their pawns, cursed to dwell forever under the thumb of those in charge.

My mind travels to places I do not want it to go. I think about what was and what could have been. I think about what I've lost, and there is nothing that I've gained. No good has come from losing Katniss. No good has come from watching countless, innocent lives be taken.

Eventually, though I don't know when, I drift off to sleep. When I wake up my neck is sore; I hadn't moved from when I first collapsed onto the bed. I am still in my clothes. I don't know what time it is but it's mostly dark, the sky filled with either the fading light of day or the first rays of sun in the new morning. It doesn't matter.

I stand and I stretch, finding that I am far hungrier than I had anticipated. I don't want to eat, but I have to. Going into the Games starving isn't going to make this any better. Even if this food could be better used elsewhere, I can't feel guilty for eating it.

Quietly I make my way back through the other cars. The platter that I knocked over earlier has been picked up, though the remnants of the puff pastry can still be seen on the floor. I'm not sure why, but that gives me a sense of satisfaction. I move into the other car then, where we had been brought initially; the lights flicker on without me even doing anything. For a moment I think that someone else has flipped the light, but then I realise that I am alone right now. Motion-censored, apparently.

The table of food is still there, though it looks fresh, as if it's been completely cleared and replenished. I really hope that this is not the case; I'd rather eat stale bread than anything right now, but I can't think about it. I am so damn hungry.

I circle it first, eyeing all the food in front of me. There is more food here than I have seen in my life, and most of it is foreign. There are at least five different kinds of meat, salads and vegetables and pastas...and then things I can't put a name to. There are cakes and pastries, other fancy desserts that I'd never seen before. There is cold water, an array of juices as well as tea and coffee and whatever else I'd want to drink...I don't want any of it. But I have to eat.

Relenting I find a plate, picking out a few foods that I know. I start out small, pulling off a piece of ham and a small amount of cheese. I take a roll of bread and then some vegetables and some fruit. I take the simplest things. This will be my act of rebellion. I will not eat the extravagant things that are placed in front of me. I will only eat that which I know. That which I can get at home.

Instead of sitting at the table I find the chair that I had been sitting in earlier. The first morsel of food is placed in my mouth and I quickly finish off the plate; I had not realised how hungry I am. Against my conscience I get more, but I do not get anything different. Same ham, same cheese, same bread and same vegetables.

This time I eat more slowly, my gaze falling out the window. It is still dark; it must be dusk then, and not dawn. Every now and then I see lights in the distance, but they whiz by far too quickly for me to make anything out. This is better than sleeping for now, I decide, especially because no one else is here. I am left alone, and that is all that I want.

_Madge _

Surprisingly enough, my words are not met with any resistance. I was expecting at least an eye roll from Gale, if not an insult from Haymitch. Maybe this time I've just gotten lucky. It's going to be a while before we reach the Capitol, and even longer before there is any foreseeable distance between Gale and myself. I wouldn't be surprised if the only reason we are separated is because of our stylists and the actual arena itself. Tributes are often mashed together, and I can bet that the other districts are the same. Especially the careers.

A chill goes over my skin as I think of the careers. I know I've made a poor decision coming here, but there's no going back now. I'm determined to do this as well as I can. Maybe I'll be able to stop Gale from doing stupid things... for Katniss' memory.

I look down again, running my fingers over the plush fabric of the armchair. I miss her. Even if we weren't very close, she was the only one that wasn't ever rude to me. In some weird way, I feel like I owe it to her to do this.

The thoughts of Katniss are beginning to confuse and muddle my mind, so I turn my attention back on Haymitch. He's making a go of trying to get out of the chair, failing more than anything else. I'm halfway committed to getting up myself and helping him up as he finally staggers to his feet, the liquid in his bottle swishing around, threatening to spill on the expensive carpet. He suggests we indulge in eating the food, seeing as we're going to likely be dead soon.

My mouth turns down in a soft frown. It does look appetizing, but I'm not very hungry. I'm fairly sure that the food will just come back up after I swallow it anyway.

Haymitch stumbles toward the table, seemingly insulting Effie just by being close to her. I catch Gale's gaze as I turn my head toward the window, and linger on his face for a moment. He's looking at me like he's expecting me to burst into tears or something. I will probably cry at some point, but I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me like that. Not after what he's said to me, already.  
Instead, I glare at him until he stands, almost instantly demanding to put as much space between him and I as he can. He's asking for the sleeping compartment, and I turn to face Haymitch and Effie, listening closely for the answer.

Of course, Effie is using too many words to form a direct answer, and one glance back at Gale's face is telling me he's growing impatient. He insists on sleeping, and before Effie can argue it further, Haymitch gives Gale directions. I keep my gaze pasted on Gale as he leaves; things are not looking any better for his mood as I hear something clattering to the ground before the door slides shut and Gale disappears.

I give a slight sigh. I'm no good at this. I won't ever be. I am just asking for trouble, and I know it.

After a few minutes of staring out of the window, I stand up. I can't decide if I want to find solitude or not, but in the end, I take a spot at the table with Effie and Haymitch.

Effie ladles me a few spoonfuls of some soup, passing over a pastry with a strawberry on top, and the very sight of it makes my stomach churn. I pick the strawberry from the top of the cake and jam it into my napkin, crushing the fruit in my palm with a squish. And that's really all that I think about Gale at the moment.

For the most part, I sip at the broth of my soup and listen to Haymitch and Effie go on about the Capitol and the games. I don't feel like talking much, but I make polite conversation. Effie seems to be thrilled to be speaking to me, and I just take the back burner on talking. I let her speak more often than not, just as I figured out when I was younger. Occasionally, we'd get big wigs up from the Capitol, and I was always introduced to them and expected to speak politely and in turn. I learned from a young age that they liked to talk about themselves, so I just let them.

I catch Haymitch casting me sideways glances as I speak with Effie. He seems interested with me, though I can't say why.

I linger at the table until dusk starts to pull its cover over the dull sky. A blanket of purple and red and orange is covering the grey clouds; the hazy, warm colors are signaling nightfall. A few hours have passed since Gale excused himself, and I've been at the table, avoiding Haymitch and chatting with Effie. Effie constantly compliments me and tells me that it's so nice to finally have a level-headed and sensible tribute that understands her. This is mostly because I've basically agreed to everything that she's said with a smile on my face.

I have to admit, I've been lingering at the table for longer than I intended. Being around Haymitch makes me anxious, and for a reason I'm not sure why. I heard he was fairly broken up after Katniss and Peeta died last year. Maybe he's got some kind of resolve that makes him think that I'll do better at living than they did. I hate to burst his bubble - if he's even thinking of it the same way I think he is - so I just stay quiet and turn my attention to Effie. At least, maybe she can put in a good word for me once we get to the Capitol.  
Haymitch has a bigger influence than she does, but he's probably as big of a joke in the Capitol as he is in District 12. Always drunk. It's a miracle that he won the games to begin with. Come to think of it, he was in the second quarter quell, and this year is the third. Maybe if we catch him sober, he'll give us a good idea of what we can expect. Really, I don't know if he will, though. The Game Makers have a habit of changing things up more than I want to think about.

By the time I've excused myself from the table, it's already pitch black outside. I follow the directions that Haymitch gave Gale and go down two cars, finding an empty compartment to call home.

It's luxurious enough to be a house on its own, and though I have known some finery, I've never seen anything like this.  
I sit on the bed, feeling my whole body relax. It's so soft. The sheets have to be at least a thousand thread count, and the comforter feels like it's made out of clouds. There's an en-suite bathroom the size of ours back at home, and it's fully fitted with a standing shower, a tub and a working toilet. Curious, I step inside the bathroom and turn the tap on. Hot water instantly gushes out, and after a few seconds of running it, it is still keeping the nice hot temperature.

I decide that it's a good idea to have a bath before bed. Maybe it will relax me.

An hour later, I emerge feeling almost as refreshed as I ever have. The water and soap has left my skin feeling tingly, and smelling so nice. Perhaps not everything here has to be horrible.  
Come to think of it, too, I have enjoyed the little bit of food I have consumed as well.

I dig in the drawers until I find some silk pajamas and pull them on before heading to bed. The window in my car is near the bed, so I lay beneath the covers, looking at the sky and the stars until I eventually fall asleep.

When I wake up, my face doesn't feel tight like I've been crying in my sleep. Maybe I was wrong about breaking down while I was on my own. Maybe I'm just too tired and beat to cry.  
Whatever it is, I'm glad that I won't look a mess today. I dress quickly, pulling out a new skirt and blouse that has been provided to me in the giant closet in my compartment.  
I pull a brush through my hair, that has turned slightly wavy, thanks to my sleeping with it wet. I tie it back with a blue ribbon that matches the skirt that I'm wearing, and shove on my socks and shoes.

It must be at least noon, I figure as I cross the two carts back to the living space that I assume is for collective meetings.  
Effie and Haymitch are already at the table, discussing something as I walk in.

"Oh," Effie exclaims, "don't you look darling!" She seems to be favoring me. I must have made a decent impression.

I smile and approach the table, taking a seat by her. "Thank you."

Effie glances at Haymitch and then back at me. "We thought we'd let you sleep in. You're going to need all your strength."

I give another small smile and a soft nod. "I slept well."

Haymitch looks at me curiously. "I didn't hear you crying. You must be a quiet one."

This remark startles me somewhat. He was expecting me to cry? Now I'm very glad I haven't.

Effie notices the look of surprise on my face and reaches across the table to slap Haymitch on the shoulder with her glove. He manages to dodge the glove, but gives Effie a look like he's going to kill her in her sleep. "Stop that! Manners!" she shrills before turning back to me, patting my shoulder delicately. "Now, honey, would you like something to eat? Help yourself!" she seems proud of herself for defending me and offering me food that just happens to be there.

I give her another small smile and nod, holding my plate out so she can fill it up for me. She continues to harp on the things that she's placing on my plate: how much she likes this roll, and how strong this cheese is... and how rare those fruits are. I go along with it, and in the end, my plate is heaped with food, and Haymitch is just staring at us incredulously.

I begin eating, but the idea that Haymitch is expecting me to cry sometime is gnawing at my mind. I pick at my food, but I can feel his eyes pressing in on me. Eventually, I just scowl openly at him. "I'm not going to cry, so you can stop waiting."

Effie looks ready to tell me off for being hostile towards Haymitch, but before she can, Gale makes his presence known to us. He's still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, for a reason I'm not entirely sure. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him eat anything here yet, either. Maybe he's just trying to show everyone that he doesn't need the Capitol's good graces. I myself am rather fond of the food and the clothing that has been provided for me. Perhaps I just know not to bite the hand that feeds me.

I catch a smirk lingering on Haymitch's face as Gale plops himself down across from me, and Effie is already starting in on his appearance. I can tell he hasn't showered, either, and Effie is only beginning to lay into him before Gale interrupts her. Effie looks a bit embarrassed for pointing out that he looks like a coal miner, especially when our district is known for its coal mining.. and Gale has been down in the mines almost for certain.

I feel obliged to interject. "I'm sure Gale will clean up nicely before we reach the Capitol, Effie." I give her an encouraging smile.

Haymitch leans back and takes a swig of his drink, undoubtedly alcoholic. "You wouldn't want to be doing the stylists jobs for them, would you?" He says with a chuckle, insinuating that this year we might be dressed up in the same baggy overalls and head lamps as years prior, to represent our district.

Effie gives him a frown. "Cinna and Portia aren't that uncreative, Haymitch. I expect we'll see good things from them again. Just like last year." Effie is lost to us then, seemingly caught up in the memories of seeing Katniss and Peeta on the chariots last year.

I have to admit, when I watched it on our television, I couldn't take my eyes off of Katniss. She looked spectacular, so bold and strong. I still didn't want to be in her place, though. Turns out I wound up there anyway. Maybe Cinna will make me unforgettable, too.

I continue to eat my plate full of goodies, bit by bit. I take small, ladylike bites, and it's a good thing, too. I am still not feeling too well about eating all this rich food.

Gale asks Effie if there is anything he should know that doesn't concern the Capitol. She looks excited for a moment but then the look fades and she goes silently back to eating.

I shoot a glare at Gale. I don't care if Effie is a bit erratic and self absorbed. She's still a person, and she has feelings too. I fix my gaze back on Effie. "I've heard there's fountains of chocolate in the Capitol. Is that true, Effie?" I ask deliberately.

Effie doesn't seem to notice I am trying to rouse her spirits and perks right up clueless as ever, going on about how the fountains are not only real but come in several different flavors.

She's going on about it as I risk a sideways glance at Haymitch, who has one eyebrow cocked and is looking directly at me.

Accidentally, I catch his gaze and he interrupts Effie. "What is it with you?" he asks, and Effie shuts up, looking curiously at me with her painted, pinched lips.

"Excuse me?" I ask, slightly offended. I feel like he's calling me out for something I haven't done.

"_What is it with you?_" he repeats, slowly this time.

I furrow my brows. I don't understand.

This much is clear to Haymitch and he leans forward across the table and looks directly at me. "I can't figure out your angle. Most tributes ask me how they're supposed to survive by now, or boast about their skills, even if they suck." He swirls the liquor around in his cup. "You've declared you know nothing that could save you, but you always try your best. I'm curious, sweetheart, how is that supposed to save you?"

I can feel my cheeks flushing. I don't like being interrogated like this. "It's not." I admit. "I have about as much of a chance at winning this than I do at sprouting wings and flying." I struggle to get my emotions in check. "But that doesn't mean I won't give it my best shot. I owe that much to Katniss."

_Gale_

I must have fallen asleep in the chair.

When I am aware it is light again, but this time I know that it is the dawn creeping up over the hills in the distance. I have no idea where we are; I am not familiar with the geography of the rest of Panem. I don't know what District we're in, or if we're in one at all. I don't know anything. Not that that says anything about me as a person; they don't teach us these things in District 12. We are on the outskirts, the farthest from the Capitol. Only the wastes of District 13 lay beyond us.

I stand and I stretch, working out a few new kinks in my body. I'm used to sleeping on hard ground or strange places, but waking up like this is never fun. I decide that I want to explore a little more, so I decide instead of going back to sleep to explore a little more. I go back the way that I came, and I continue on passed the room where I slept. I pass by others of the same kind, eventually finding myself in another car. I'm not sure what this is here, but it seems to be storage. Beyond that more storage...and then the end.

It's probably not the smartest idea, but I don't really care. I wrench open the door and open it, finding myself looking at the land speeding away behind us. We are moving impossibly fast; falling off is not an option. We are heading west, but I can see that we've just hit a curve in the track, angling us north. I don't know how much longer we will be on this train, but I already want off.

Stepping out I grip the railing, allowing the wind to sweep through my hair. I've never felt it like this before; I stick my hand out the side and I stumble a little from the sheer force, and I know I probably shouldn't do that again.

I don't know how long I am out here, but eventually I can see the sun. I let it rise a little more before heading back to the food car...I am hungry again.

I don't realise how late it is until I see the others, and I catch sight of a clock on the wall. Did I fall asleep out there or something? Normally I am good with time, just by the sun. I have watched countless sunrises out in the forest, in my spot with Katniss. With or without her I've seen them, though they never change. I suppose I can at least take comfort in that. I feel as thought something has messed with my perception, but it's probably just me being tired.

Madge and Haymitch and Effie are already here. Madge is wearing new clothes and she looks clean, and, dare I say it, pretty. Madge has always been pretty...not that that matters to me. Pretty things don't catch my eye. I am wearing the same dirty clothes I wore yesterday, and it is the first thing that Effie notices.

"Gale!" she exclaims, her eyes wide with some sort of shock. For a moment I am uncomfortable; what have I done now? "Did you not _see_ the wardrobe that we set out for you? There are ample clothes in there that should be to your liking. You don't have to be wearing those _ghastly_ things from before. We're going into the Capitol, after all. We can't have them thinking that District 12 is full of-"

"Coal miners?" I say, cutting her off. She pauses, blinking. While this isn't my coal-mining outfit, it may as well have been. It's dirty enough. I was probably the only person in the whole District that didn't dress up for the reaping. I wonder if they will catch that on tape.

Effie is momentarily at a loss for words, and I step forward to show that I'm not changing. Not yet. I probably will for when we step off the drain; I _do_ have personal hygiene, even if they don't think I do right now. I probably would have changed into something else if I had spent the night in that room, but I hadn't. And after that little display, I'm not changing.

This time I take a seat at the table, beside Haymitch and across from Madge. I can see that Effie has taken a liking to the girl, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. I can feel Haymitch's eyes on me like he's considering something, but I have no idea what that could be. I have a feeling I'll find out later though, since he doesn't seem as drunk as he usually does. Of course, it's still early; there's plenty of daylight left for him to throw away.

Madge has piled her plate with food and I try not to think about it. Effie turns her attention to me, her tone considerably colder than how she'd been speaking with Madge, but she points out all the different foods and what I should be eating. She may as well be speaking a foreign language; the names do not make sense to me.

I grab a few things, the same things that I did last night and I sit down; I don't bother to listen to her suggestions of what pastries I should be eating. I don't care.

It is at this point that Madge suddenly speaks up, and I am rather perplexed at her words. I wasn't looking at her, but I realise that Haymitch had been. Was there some sort of conversation I missed?

Haymitch's lips twitch a little, but he goes back to his eating. The smell of alcohol isn't as strong on him today, and it's after noon. Maybe he has something planned for us. What that could be I have no idea; then again, he's supposed to train us. He's supposed to show us how to survive. He can't do that if he's drunk.

"Well now that that's out of the way," I bite sarcastically; I don't really care whether Madge cries or not. I don't understand why it's so important to anyone else. "Anything you'd like to enlighten us about," I cast a look to Effie, who has brightened and appears to want to prattle on again, "that _doesn't_ have to do with how wonderful the Capitol is? We're being sent there to die. I'd rather not waste time on the pleasantries." She looks slightly deflated for a moment, and then promptly returns to her food. I can see something in her eyes though, pity, perhaps. But not the kind of pity I had been expecting, to be honest.

I have to remember that these are the same people that took Katniss and Peeta on the same journey a year ago. Perhaps they did more than I thought.

I sit there for a few moments in silence, and a feeling overcomes me that I hadn't at all expected.

I feel guilty.

Only a little; I see that I've somehow wounded Effie, even if I feel that she's superficial enough to get over it. She obviously doesn't understand what this is all about. She thinks that this is all just a game. That our lives are on the line for her entertainment and nothing else. Perhaps she thinks that we are sacrificing ourselves for some greater cause, but she doesn't know what it's like. Not even Madge does, sitting there in her fancy dress.

I shove food into my mouth to keep me quiet for the time being; no need to go pissing anyone else off.

Madge comes to my defence; her words are truth, but I eye her carefully. What is she up to? I don't understand why she's getting on Effie's good side, though I don't think it's a place that's difficult to find.

Effie mentions some names that I don't recognise, but it soon becomes clear that they were all involved in this too, last year. I recall the outfits; even my breath was taken away as I saw Katniss and Peeta emerging on their chariot, holding hands and glowing like burning embers. So they were going to do us up too? To be honest I had forgotten about all of that; all the pomp and circumstance that comes with this. How we will be paraded for all the world to see, and people will make bets over our very lives. The thought makes me sick.

I am lost in my own pathetic little world for a moment, though I am pulled out of it as Madge brings up something about chocolate fountains. The idea is absolute ludacris, and I give Madge an incredulous look. Really? We are about to go into the place where we are more than likely to die. And she wants to know about _chocolate fountains_? Effie takes the bait though, delighted to have at least one pair of listening ears.

Casting a glance towards Haymitch, I see that he's thinking the same thing. I decide to keep quite though; Madge is proving more and more the mystery as time goes on, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Surprisingly, Haymitch speaks up. I lean back in my chair, forgetting my food for a moment. I am intrigued, and I know that I've been right about him. He sees more than he lets on. Maybe Haymitch isn't one to be underestimated...he did win the last Quarter Quell, after all. Gale would have to try and figure out how that was.

Madge's response to Haymitch's scrutinising surprises me. She'd mentioned Katniss before, but I don't understand why. Katniss had never mentioned her...Madge had never mattered before. She shouldn't matter now. But...why did she? I know I have to talk to her some more, try and figure this out. Doesn't mean I like her; I'd rather not be around her. But something is up here, and I want to know what it was. Because maybe...maybe if I could have an ally in this...

No, that's stupid. Madge, of all people, wouldn't want to help.

Then again, she _had_ volunteered...

Haymitch turns to me, and he scrutinises me a moment. "And what about you, kid? You said you're not gonna die. How do you plan on doing that? I suspect you've got something to do with our dear old friend Katniss. Am I wrong?" he says, jumping to the heart of the matter right away.

I stiffen, turning my gaze towards my food. "I used to hunt with Katniss," I tell him, and that should give him an indication of my abilities. I can't shoot as well as she could, but I've got my talents. And I've grown stronger over the past year.

"So you can shoot a bow?" he asks.

I shrug. "Not as good as she can, but I can survive," I respond.

Haymitch is silent for a few moments, and I can tell a plan is forming in his head. He grins then, taking a swig of his alcohol. I can smell it now. "Well, isn't this interesting. District 12 is certainly proving to provide some rather...unique stock. We're going to have a fun time together," he says, looking much too happy with himself.

I feel like Haymitch knows something, and he's not telling us. I want to know what it is, if it has something to do with Katniss.


End file.
